What Dreams May Come
by BroughtBack
Summary: FULL LIST OF CROSSOVERS IN CHAPTER 6  Jonathan Crane stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. WARNINGS: Violence, Sexuality, Language, Alter Chapters Contain SLASH.
1. Beautiful Dreamers

**A/N: Alright, so _technically_ this should be placed under a crossover section, but the three fandoms that I'm trying to interconnect, Batman Begins/Nightmare on Elm Street 2010/Inception, are all so vital to the plot that I can't simply choose two. So I'm placing this here in Batman because the main character, Jonathan Crane, is the most important. I will warn you that this is going to be one hell of a ride and that if I get enough reviews I will be announcing an update time per week. **

**Also, if anyone has any ideas for dream sequences, please post them in a review or a PM. There's only so much creativity I can procure without inspiration.**

The minute Jonathan Crane was released was the greatest moment of his life.

He had been dubbed mentally competent only because he was less of a threat than others locked up in Arkham. He had been given a small bundle of belongings, twenty dollars in cash, and sent on his merry way. His bank accounts hadn't been frozen, but they had certainly been put under close surveillance. However, in those first couple of weeks after release Jonathan had been purchasing nothing but bare essentials to keep himself going and two new sets of clothing.

His apartment from his days as Administrator was nothing more than a rotting husk, with several holes in the floor that his furniture had fallen through from the utter disrepair of the place. So he had found an apartment in a relatively nice neighborhood (for Gotham) and had set up his life there. Things, however, were not to be so easy for him.

There came a certain lack of trust, especially in Raven Sway Suburbs, that constantly directed itself towards the ex-doctor. While Jonathan had never been the most friendly or approachable man in Gotham, he had tried once he had been released to become more friendly towards his fellow men and women. Unfortunately, such attempts would only make things harder for him. But he tried still. He attended the rare and infrequent community functions, volunteered to help (despite always being told that he wasn't needed) and even found a decent job as a cashier at a small market nearby.

And so began the rebirth of Jonathan Crane.

"Jon, this is the third double shift you've worked this week." Nancy, a young girl with wide brown eyes with heavy circles beneath them, a thin face and lips and a throaty voice that was rarely ever heard, looked over her companion at the cashier. "You are allowed to have a two day weekend."

"I have to pay off my bills." Jonathan sighed, glancing at the girl across the aisle from him. "Pretenses are expensive, you know."

"So my parents tell me." She smiled, shaking her head.

Nancy was one of the few people that Jonathan knew that didn't stop to think that he had once been a criminal. That he had caused one of the most terrifying experiences of millions in a single night. He would always say that he had merely been a pawn, but it was his fear toxin and hence the world always assumed it was his grand master plan.

"So how is school going?" Jonathan asked, smiling at the girl. The night was young, business was slow with only one customer meandering down the cold medicine section with a horrible cough that might as well have been a radar ping to the three employees on shift.

"Alright. My chemistry final is coming up and I'm scared shitless at the thought of it." Nancy pulled a bottle of capsules from her pocket, opening it and popping one into her mouth before swallowing dry.

"If it weren't for the fact that your parents would shit enough bricks to build their own castle then I'd offer to help." Jonathan gave an apologetic look.

"Right, you used to be a psychiatrist, huh…" Nancy smiled as she recalled the information, Jonathan nodding as he glanced at the customer approaching them with his box of cough syrup. The man stopped in front of Nancy's counter, his coat collar pulled up around his cheeks and his shoulders hunched suspiciously. "Find everything you need, sir?" The young girl asked and the man shook his head. "Oh, I'm sorry, perhaps we could help you, what were you trying to find?"

Two guns were instantly pulled from the man's pockets and held up to each of their faces, the man sidestepping so that he could see both of them. "Hands on the counters." Jonathan tried not to let his surprise and slight apprehension show on his face as he placed his hand on the counter, Nancy mirroring him with wide eyes, the only indication that she was afraid of the man. "Empty the registers then get in the aisle."

Jonathan instantly moved to do so, his brain working at several miles per second as he slapped bills and change on the counter, glancing at Nancy's shaking hands as she did the same. He was unused to doing the will of other criminals, but he was defenseless and he had Nancy to think about – it wouldn't do to have his only friend killed.

The two made their way to the middle of the aisle, Jonathan ushering Nancy behind him as he stared at the gunman, who was sweeping the money into a plastic bag, a few bills fluttering to the floor as change clinked softly against linoleum. The man let out a ragged cough and Jonathan took that moment to push Nancy and whisper "Pharmacy" to her.

The brunette girl raced away, the gunman looking up in shock as he heard her shoes pounding on the ground, moving to shoot at the cashier. Jonathan instantly stepped forward, slapping one of the guns out of the man's hand, grapping his other hand and aiming it towards the ceiling while he wrapped a long-fingered hand around a thick neck.

The man struggled, snarling and cursing as Jonathan shoved him down the check-out aisle, the man delivering a firm punch and sending Jonathan sprawling. Long legs worked and bullets hit the ground near the brunette man's shins as he moved to his feet and raced down the aisles. "Panic button, panic button!" The brunette screamed, grabbing Nancy as bullets flew about them, dragging the girl into the Pharmacy, where the aged man that had been resting back there had jolted awake from the sound of gunfire. Jonathan slammed shut the thick metal shields over the counter and windows, locking them and ordering his two fellow captives down.

"Jon, what are we going to do?" Nancy whispered, crouching beneath the counter and staring up at the pacing doctor.

"I saw his face, so he'll have to come in here. We don't have a panic button back here, so we'll just have to get him out ourselves." The young man found a water gallon, emptying the jug onto the floor before he found a funnel, opening the door to the back storage and beginning to throw around supplies and produce that had been delivered earlier.

"Jon, you're gonna lose your job if you try anything." The elder pharmacist, Keith, whispered as well.

"I'd rather all of us make it out alive." Jonathan called, returning with a small blender and several spicy peppers. "I can do this." He whispered, plugging in the blender and turning it on with the peppers inside before throwing around supplies in the pharmacy until he found ethyl alcohol. "I don't have a burner…" Grabbing a metal tray and a pot, the brunette crumpled up pieces of paper before feeling himself over. He found his pack of cigarettes and emptied it with shaking hands, finding his lighter in the packet and setting the paper on fire before slamming the metal tray over it.

"What are you doing?" Nancy asked, scooting over to her friend. "How can I help?"

"I need you to find things that can be used for masks." Jonathan whispered. "I'm making tear gas."

Nancy nodded before going into the storage room, Keith moving to kneel next to Jonathan. "What do you need?"

"Help me pour this into the jug." Jonathan ordered, taking apart the blender with ease and holding up the container and funnel. The two had the pureed peppers and alcohol in the jug in a matter of minutes, Nancy returning with several towels.

"Will these work?"

"They'll do. How well do you two know the layout of this place?"

"Well enough."

"You could get out of here blind?"

The two were silent, uncertain as they looked at one another. "I'll lead you two." The brunette whispered, smiling reassuringly as he placed the jug on the heated tray to bring to a simmer. "When I tell you, put the towels on and get up on the counter."

After a few minutes Jonathan nodded, lifting the gallon and crouching next to the barrier between them and their assailant. He unlocked the barrier and lifted it, throwing it open and surprising the man, who let out a sputtering cough as he turned. The jug made contact with the floor and an explosion of yellow gas filled the air of the store. Jonathan held his breath, dragging his two coworkers out of the pharmacy and to the door, his eyes blurring and watering as he stumbled through the front door, coughing as he did so. Everything burned and contracted and he could hear cars racing by the market, not caring about what had just gone on and Nancy screaming in his ear as she shook his shoulders. When had he fallen? He didn't know nor care as he tried to pull agonized breaths through his lungs.

"_Don't you touch him!_" Nancy's voice screamed and that was the last he heard before everything went dark.

Jonathan awoke in darkness and for a few moments he had wondered if he was still asleep. Or rather, unconscious, because sleep would imply he had gotten rest.

The first thing that plagued him was the irresistible need for a cigarette and his hands instantly moved to his slacks pockets, trying to find the packet as he sat up from the creaking bed beneath him. There were, of course, no cigarettes and as he sighed and glanced around his eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in the surroundings slowly.

It took him a moment to realize that he was in his own apartment. Standing up, the brunette confidently made his way to the door of his bedroom, flicking on the living room light before going to the kitchen and reaching into his "junk drawer" to pull out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Those things will kill you."

Jonathan nearly burned his own nose off he jumped so high, turning with the pall mall dangling from his lips and blue eyes wide.

The Bat was standing silently in a corner of the living room, watching him, and as Jonathan tried to recall how on earth this could have happened something clicked in his mind.

"You were the one they sent to a market being shot up? Talk about overkill." Jonathan snorted, returning to lighting his cancer stick in preparation for giving himself lung cancer.

"The market that Scarecrow works at."

"It's been two years. I've been out for almost one. I'm on medication, look." The brunette gestured to the bar of his kitchen counter, which had several bottles lined up neatly on it. "Respiradol, lexapro, fluoxetine, you name it, they put me on it."

"What happened at the market?"

"We were being held at gunpoint; I got my two coworkers to the pharmacy and then proceeded to make tear gas to subdue the shooter." Jonathan recited as if he was speaking to a cop. At this point that was all Batman could possibly be, an over-glorified cop.

"You could have pressed the panic button."

"The market doesn't _have_ one in the pharmacy and Nancy and I had been forced from behind the registers." Jonathan sighed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He had switched to menthols in hopes of slowly weaning himself from the addiction, but when in Arkham, where half the time the only thing _to_ do was smoke, the addiction stuck with you somewhat as a stress reliever.

"I searched your apartment."

"Well thank you, I was afraid I might have some privacy hidden somewhere."

"I found your mask and notes."

"You pulled up my floorboards?"

"And put them back, but that's beside the point. I need to confiscate them."

Jonathan glared at the Batman, huffing before he took a long drag from his cigarette. "Fine, take them. I wasn't going to use them anyway."

As Batman turned to leave he paused, looking over his shoulder at Jonathan. "You did a good thing today and you used your skills to do that… Gotham could use you."

Jonathan wanted to make a snide comment, but before he could the Bat was gone and he was alone in his apartment, making mental notes to get better locks for his windows and doors.

"Nancy?" Jonathan knocked on the door of the apartment that he had been told was where Nancy lived, frowning as he tried the door and found it unlocked. "Nancy?" The older man's voice was tinted with fear now as he looked around. There were what looked to be claw marks everywhere, as if a wild animal had been let loose in the building. Jonathan raced back to the bedroom, blinking in absolute amazement at what he saw. Articles that looked as if they had once been tacked on the wall along with screen captures and drawn pictures were scattered around, a few dangling lightly from where they had been crucified by thumb tacks. Nancy was lying on her bed, eyes closed and body sprawled half on and off the bed, her dark tresses splayed over the crisp pale sheets.

The man's blue eyes widened and he raced over, pulling Nancy onto the bed and looking over her. "Nancy? Nancy, wake up." Medical training flittered around his head and the brunette man placed his fingers at the girl's throat to feel for a pulse, pulling out his cell phone and dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency."

"I am in my friend's home, there looks to have been an attack and she is not breathing." Placing the phone on speaker he carefully rested it on the nightstand beside the bed. "Her name is Nancy Holbrook, she's twenty-two years old. I don't know her height and weight." The man placed his head on her heart. "I'm starting CPR."

"We'll send a dispatch, keep talking to me."

"Will do." Jonathan pressed his mouth to Nancy's, pinching off her nose and filling her lungs with air, before pulling back. "Starting compressions. One. Two. Three. Four. Five." Thirty compressions, Nancy still wasn't breathing. "Mouth to mouth." Two breaths. "Starting compressions." Fifteen compressions later and Nancy coughed, sitting up with a deep breath. "She's breathing, she's breathing."

Nancy stared at Jonathan, pressing her face to his neck, her breathing rapid as she clung to him. "Are you real?" She asked and Jonathan noticed how the circles under her eyes were more pronounced and rimmed with red from lack of sleep. "Please tell me you're real."

"I'm real, Nancy." Jonathan whispered. "I'm real, I'm here, an ambulance is on the way."

"I saw him again. He's here." Jonathan frowned at Nancy's shaking and her tight grip on his shirt. "He's here."

"There's someone still in the apartment, Nancy?"

"Freddy… Freddy Kruger…" Nancy whispered, grasping Jonathan's shoulders tightly. "He found me…"

"_Is he still here, Nancy_?" Jonathan asked, gently squeezing the girl's shoulders. "I need to know if he's here."

Nancy stared at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly before her lips trembled and tears flowed down her cheeks. "I don't know what's real anymore."

Jonathan stared at her and for once the expression of absolute fear making his stomach churn rather than please the sadistic Scarecrow that lay comatose within him. When the EMT's came he released Nancy, who whimpered and called for him, the brunette reassuring her that he would stay with her, climbing into the ambulance as she was loaded in on a stretcher, an oxygen mask on her face as she stared at Jonathan, grasping his wrist and sleeve tightly.

When they arrived at the hospital the doctor's quick assessment was just as Jonathan himself had suspected: Nancy was suffering from sleep deprivation.

"I'm just going to give you a little something to put you under for a bit." The doctor smiled, writing something on a clipboard. "I'll have the nurse in here in a few minutes."

Nancy's red-rimmed eyes turned to Jonathan's and her lips trembled as she grasped his arm so tightly her fingers creaked. "I don't want it, Jon, I don't want to sleep."

"Nancy, your brain can't handle going for so long without sleep."

"He'll get me if I sleep. I won't wake up, Jon, I need to stay up."

"Who, Nancy? Listen to yourself, will you? You're not making any sense." Jonathan was angry at the young girl for what she had put him through. He wasn't supposed to care for someone like this, wasn't supposed to want the best for someone else. Other people just made life… Complicated.

"Fred Kruger." Nancy whispered. "He killed everyone else… I left before he could kill me too."

"Kruger." Jonathan whispered, his hand wrapped in Nancy's own. "The man on your walls."

"I don't want to stay here, Jon, please."

Jonathan stared at the girl before him, biting his lips before glancing at the door. "I want… I want what's best for you, Nancy."

oOo

Jonathan crouched beneath the bat signal, fumbling open a container of energy capsules, a small bottle of 5 hour energy and a can of red bull, handing them over to Nancy as the girl sat beside him, a grocery bag filled with more supplies in her hand.

"We've been here for forty minutes." Nancy whispered, looking at her friend. "What if he doesn't show?"

"He'll show. He's the goddamn Bat Man." Jonathan spat, glaring at the signal before he stroked the girl's long brown hair. "And if we play our cards right, we can get rid of Kruger for good."

"Get rid of who for good?" The deep, gravelly voice was familiar and instantly Jonathan straightened, glaring at the Dark Knight as he loomed on the edge of a building.

"Fred Kruger." Jonathan tossed several worn, tattered articles held safely in a manila envelope at the other man. "He's harassing my friend and is a highly dangerous criminal."

The rustle of paper and the soft sound of leather running over pages. "He died over a decade ago."

"No, he didn't." Nancy whispered from where she was sitting on the roof, looking up at the Bat. "He attacked me today, and he's been gaining strength in my dreams for several weeks since he found out I moved from Springfield."

"You're a Doctor, Crane, do you believe her?"

"I believe that there's something happening concerning Kruger… I also believe that Nancy is telling the truth."

"If you weren't declared mentally sane I would call you crazy." Batman whispered harshly and Jonathan bristled out of instinct.

"Now listen here, the only reason we're sitting up here is because of you. You didn't hunt us down, we came to ask for help." Jonathan frowned tightly as he folded his arms. "We need help."

"What's this we?"

"This is Nancy Holbrook." Jonathan gestured to the girl beneath the Bat signal. "And she can't sleep, or else she'll die."


	2. Forgotten Things Scream In Dreams

Jonathan disliked being blind-folded. He disliked the fact that the Batman honestly thought that he would try and cause trouble when he had asked for aid in the first place, with no weapons, no chemicals and a young girl that he didn't even pretend was his hostage.

"Jon, I'm falling asleep."

"Stay awake, Nancy."

"Talk to me."

"Alright, alright, um… What's your favorite movie?"

"Um… That Disney movie about Rapunzel… Tangled."

"I don't think I've ever seen that."

"I'd question you if you had."

"Come on, my favorite movie is Moulin Rouge, you don't get much worse than that."

"Point taken."

"Favorite book?"

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."

"I hear the English movie is coming out soon."

"Maybe you should take me out to see it… If I live through this."

Batman paused at that, having been listening to his two passengers speaking as they entered the Batcave, when they slowed to a stop Jonathan and Nancy blindly turned their heads, listening to the silent engine cutting off. "We're here."

"Can we take off the blindfolds?" Jonathan asked sarcastically.

"Go ahead, I'll show you to where you'll be staying."

The two removed the black fabric from their eyes, blinking as they adjusted to whatever light was in the cave, following the Batman as his tall form meandered through the area until they came to a tunnel next to what looked to be an elevator shaft and a storage area. Nancy was shivering and as they walked by a small waterfall, Jonathan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. The room by the elevator was about the size of a master bedroom, with a large bed that took up about half the room, a television on a wall with a newscast currently playing, an empty boudoir in a corner and a bathroom nearby with a toilet and sink. It looked like the sort of place that Batman probably spent during long nights for a few quick hours, the bed made with dark sheets and comforters, the plush pillows looking absolutely heavenly.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly and the brunette girl shook her head, staring at the bed.

"I'm terrified." She whispered, her wobbling line of movement displaying just how out of touch she was. Her messenger bag was removed from her shoulder and tossed onto the bed, but she refused to go anywhere near it.

"You need sleep." Jonathan sighed, running his fingers over her back.

"I can't."

"I'm going to get help for you two." The Batman's gravelly voice cut through the air and the two turned to look at him. "Dreams aren't really in my jurisdiction, but I know someone who can help you out with that."

"Who?" Jonathan asked, skeptical.

"Dom Cobb."

oOo

L.A. was quite a ways away from Gotham, though it wasn't difficult to find a reason why the eligible bachelor Bruce Wayne would be travelling so far away. Rumors of sleep problems and the need to escape the city filtered around gossip rags and as the private jet that Bruce was flying on landed in California, the young billionaire contemplated at how there was always a little truth mixed in with a lie.

The household of one Dominic Cobb was a sprawling ranch-house with an expansive backyard and wrap-around porch. When Bruce knocked on the door there was a squeal of two small children as they raced towards the front, peering through the frosted windows on either side of the thick wooden partition. The door was unlocked and revealed a stocky man with a five-o-clock shadow, deep blue eyes and messily swept back hair. He was dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans and looked like he had just gotten back from something, his keys still clutched in his hand.

"Hi… I don't know if you know me-"

"You're Bruce Wayne." The older man stated without overture or formality, his children hiding behind his legs as he stood between them and the man before him. "I'm not in that business anymore, so forget it."

Bruce gave his normal indulgent smile and nodded to the doorway. "Can I come in, have a word in private?"

Dom scowled, but stepped aside, crouching down to whisper something to the children, who were instantly racing through the house until the sound of the back door slamming echoed back to the two adults. The ex-extractor scowled at the man before him, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I just got back from grocery shopping."

"I can see that."

Another scowl. "Why is this so important?" Dom pulled a package of chicken from one of the fabric bags that it had been packed in, tossing it in the bottom of the fridge as he spoke. "I'm retired and as far as I'm concerned you could find a better, younger extractor."

"But a younger extractor wouldn't even consider what I'm about to say." Bruce stated with a sigh, leaning against a counter. "Ever heard of Freddy Kruger?"

Dom froze from where he was putting a gallon of milk in the fridge, his back to Bruce as he stood stock still. "Where… Did you hear that name?"

"He was a killer in Springfield New Jersey. The Elm Street Child Killings… Used to be a gardener at a day care center, became a child molester and a group of parents went vigilante and killed him."

"Don't quote news articles and police reports at me." Dom snapped. "I know who Fred Kruger is."

"So you know that the only survivor of the killings is currently living in Gotham city."

Dom paused, swallowing. "I've kept tabs on it… I believe all original extractors do, just to keep track of him, see if he comes back."

"Nancy Holbrook has become close friends with Doctor Jonathan Crane. I don't know if you know him or not." Dom swallowed and nodded at Bruce's statement. "Well, he's taken a liking to her, I'm not sure why, but I'm not questioning it more than I have to. He asked for help."

"And the ever charitable Bruce Wayne is giving help to a ex-criminal that caused one of the single greatest tragedies of our time?"

"Bruce Wayne, no. The Batman is helping him."

Dom was unsure as to how many times he had found himself at a loss for words through the course of this conversation, but he knew that the number was far higher than he was comfortable. "You're the Batman… And you're trusting me not to blab this to the world?"

"You don't want the attention of the media." Bruce stated with a shrug. "You just want to quietly live your life with your children, you don't need the interviews, the spots on international TV or the fame." Dom wished that he could deny that entire statement, but he knew it was true. He just wanted to drop off the radar with his children. "I can provide you with that invisibility."

Dom breathed deeply, rubbing his eyes as he stood with his back to Bruce. Saito had given him a clean name, but the money was for the others, he hadn't thought about how he would support his children without it. Dom was a proud man, the option of living off of the welfare system was not a viable one to him. "I'll need to meet Nancy. I'll also need access to blacked out records, enough sedative somnacin to keep us under for six hours and a case."

"I can get you that." Bruce smirked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the counter. "I'll fly you over in two days." And with that he turned and left the house, the front door clicking shut behind him.

Dom instantly picked up the phone, dialing a familiar number and holding it to his ear, frowning as he waited for an answer. "Yo." Came a familiarly feminine voice, and Dom could just picture the young woman sitting in her apartment, sketchpad in hand, a model spread across her table, rendering it useless for actual company.

"Ariadne, it's Dom."

There was a scrape of chair legs and the blonde smiled at the sound of her movements. "Dom? My god it's been what, three years?"

"Five."

"God, where have you been? You just disappeared on us!"

"LA, look, don't tell the others where I am, but I need you to get a hold of Saito, I'm going to be performing another inception."

"On who?" Ariadne sounded confused.

"I can't tell you, but I need resources and he's the only one who knows where everyone scattered to after the job."

"Alright, alright, I'll call him."

"And I need you to meet me in Gotham city in four days."

"Just me?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, do I need the models?"

"No, this isn't going to be like anything you've ever done."

"I'm not a newbie anymore, Dom."

"Believe me, Ariadne, this isn't going to be like anything you've ever done."

oOo

"Nancy?" Jonathan shook the girl's shoulder, frowning when her glassy-eyed expression remained. "Nancy!" The older man slapped her cheek, causing her to jump with a shout. "Stay awake!"

"But I'm so bored… And tired…" Nancy sighed, rubbing her eyes. "How long have we been here?"

"I don't know… A day?" Jonathan ran his hand through his greasy hair, making a face. "God, I'd kill for a shower."

"I'd kill for ice water."

The two looked like they were about to fall over when an idea struck him. "Come on," He grabbed Nancy's elbow, hauling her out of her chair and made his way out of the back room, into the main Batcave where the waterfall was located. "We can jump in here."

"I'm not getting my clothes wet, this is the only set I have." Nancy folded her arms over the thick sweater covering her thin arms and chest.

"Come on, it'll wake you up." Jonathan sighed, stripping out of his jacket and buttondown. "Besides, you can just jump in with your underwear."

Nancy blushed brightly at that, her frown becoming even more pronounced. "Jon, if this is an attempt to get me naked with you-"

"Nancy, you're like a sister to me, besides, you're not my type." The brunette man tossed his pants at the girl, who ducked and pouted before stripping out of her sweater and wriggling her jeans off of her hips, leaving her in her plain white bra and underwear, Jonathan slipping his shoes off so that he was only in his dark boxers. Before Nancy could protest anymore, the older man was splashing into the water, shivering before he turned to the girl still standing on the rocky cave floor. "I'm awake!"

Nancy made a face before following, gasping at the frigid temperature and shivering as she followed Jonathan out deeper into the water. Pins and needles pricked their legs and waists and by the time the floor of the small pond gave out, the water was around their collarbones, preserving modesty somewhat as they drifted together.

"Hey, do you think he has a password for that computer?" Nancy asked suddenly and Jonathan blinked before he grinned. "Because if he doesn't then I think I found a way to stay awake."

Within fifteen minutes the two felt suitably refreshed and awake and climbed out of the small private pool, dripping wet as they raced over to the large chair in front of the gargantuan screen, Jonathan finding the lit up keyboard and pressing the enter key.

"Oh, Bat Man, no password?" The brunette grinned, restraining himself from snooping and pulling up an internet server, astounded at the speed.

"It's like Google Chrome on crack." Nancy giggled from where she had seated herself on the older man's lap. "Oh, oh, go to !"

"What the, that's a kid's website!" Jonathan scoffed.

"But it's addictive, watch, watch." Nancy reached forward, typing in the URL and then searching the site for a particular game. A flash game began to load called Gluey and Jonathan watched with interest as the brunette girl began to play by clicking on certain blobs of color.

"This is so easy it's sad." Jonathan sighed.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really, it's pathetic."

"Alright, here." The girl clicked on a higher level, near the end of the entire game, smirking. "You try."

Jonathan grumbled before beginning to click on random blobs that had blinking black eyes, frowning when he was told that he had lost. "_What_?" The ex-doctor clicked "replay level" and lost once more, grumbling each time he failed to get the required number of blobs. "You're a bitch." Jonathan shouted at the screen and Nancy laughed at Jonathan's anger. "Okay, we're playing _my_ game now." The older man typed in a URL and a loading bar found its way slowly across the screen until a simple grayscale flash game appeared, the curling title reading "Coma".

"You are looking at the master of these things." Nancy chuckled, flexing her fingers. Jonathan simply grinned as she began to play the game, watching her as she intently made sure that she spoke to all the misshapen blob characters, gathered all the supplies and completed the tasks.

Nancy had tried to cross the chasm a second time when Jonathan's eyes drifted closed and his chin sunk against his chest.

The brunette man's head snapped up and he cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes as he looked around. The screen was still displaying the game, but Nancy was leaning against him, eyes closed and frail chest rising and falling gently. Jonathan sighed, leaning back in the chair as he held Nancy to his body, letting her own cool frame absorb some of the warmth of his chest.

He was slightly relieved that his friend had been able to fall asleep, finding some reprieve from the exhaustion that she had been faced with. After a few minutes the brunette frowned when he noticed something. Nancy's eyes were moving rapidly, which was normal, but the motions were sporadic and far too quick to be average.

"Nancy?" The brunette shook the young woman's shoulder, staring in horror when her head slid off of her thin neck, thudding on the ground with a wet noise. "Nancy!" Jonathan shouted, standing up and letting her body drop to the ground. "Shit. Fuck, fuck!" The room was flooding with blood and the sound of bats flocking, shrieking, filled the man's ears and he screamed as he covered his ears, closing his eyes. "Wake up! Wake up!"

A hand was around his neck and Jonathan's eyes snapped open, the blue orbs focusing on the burnt face of a man wearing a ratty brown fedora. "How's this for a wet dream, Jonny-boy?" The gravelly voice laughed and blood dripped from his mouth onto the doctor's bare chest, a choked scream lodging in his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed with his stressed breathing. The man's mouth opened wide and an enormous raven flocked out, the wickedly thick and pointed beak opening and cawing as sharp talons clawed at the man's face.

"No, no, no!" Jonathan screamed, tearing his fingers down the man's face as he kicked and fought against the unimaginable strength there.

"Wake up!" The voice of the monster warped, the crow shrieking the words as well. "Wake up, Jonathan!"

Blue eyes snapped open and the brunette instantly turned, heaving his guts as he coughed and vomited anything that had remained in his stomach within the past two days. Cool, shaking hands were placed at his shoulders and Nancy's concerned brown eyes were staring at him.

"Jonathan…" Nancy hugged the older man, who pressed his nose to her hair, breathing shakily as he clung to her. "God, don't scare me like that."

"It was just a dream." He whispered, holding the young woman to his chest. "Just a dream." Nancy shivered as she wrapped her arms around Jonathan, closing her eyes as she let him squeeze her thin frame tightly. "Goddamn the Bat Man, where is he?" Jonathan whispered, eyes darting around suspiciously.

The more pressing question was whether he would return in time.


	3. Dreaming Ties All Mankind Together

**A/N: Hypnocil was introduced to the Freddy Kruger universe in the movie Freddy vs. Jason. It is a drug that has not been approved by the FDA and is mainly used to stop dreaming.**

Jonathan and Nancy had subscribed to Netflix by the time the Batman returned. They had blazed their way through most of the horror movies on the list, stopping a quarter of the way through the ones that didn't hold their interest, before they had moved on to the television series. Being Human only had one season available and Nancy had asked for something funny and so they had pulled up Futurama on the enormous screen.

Bruce was never quite sure how to react to the two, and as they sat, staring at the screen, eyes rimmed with sleepless red and uproariously punch-drunk laughter escaping them.

"I don't know why this is so funny!" Jonathan cackled as he pressed his face to Nancy's sweater-clad shoulder.

"Because we're delirious." Nancy giggled, reaching forward with a shaking hand and taking another drink of their last Red Bull.

"You two astound me." The dark figure that had been standing behind them finally drew their attention away from the screen and they leapt to their feet. The man was holding a large dufflebag and a few plastic grocery bags as well. "You have access to infinite knowledge and all my deep dark secrets and you watch cartoons?"

"Well we got bored looking at schematics and finding the weaknesses in your armor and whatchamacallits." Jonathan was obviously just as sleep deprived as Nancy as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, the two looking like they were standing up only because they were leaning against one another to balance out their weight. "So we decided to watch movies!"

Nancy giggled and made a creeping motion with her fingers. "Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Can-"

"No!" Jonathan howled, covering her mouth as he let out a burst of giggles. "He'll come and get us and kill the Bat Man!"

"I thought you wanted him dead?" Nancy asked after pulling the thin hand from her lips.

"But then I wouldn't have someone to play with!"

"Master Wayne, I strongly suggest eventually soundproofing this place." Alfred called from where he was scowling at the two, standing in the elevator with a tray containing two glasses of orange just and a white bottle of pills in hand.

"Who's that?" Jonathan asked, stumbling slightly in surprise at the arrival of the other man. "Why are you two tilting?" And with that the brunette fell to the ground, out cold, Nancy letting out a loud giggle as she watched him.

Alfred made a face and went over to the workbench nearby, placing the tray down and emptying the contents of two Hypnocil into each glass before making his way over to Nancy. "Please, have a drink, love." Nancy's shaking hand took the drink without question, something she would not have done had she been in a better state of mind. Taking a long drink, the affects of the medicine began to take effect almost immediately, while Alfred carefully fed the other glass of juice to Jonathan, his blue eyes trying to pry themselves open.

After the two were sedated and carried into the bedroom to get their first night's sleep in almost three days, the Batman pulled his cowl back to reveal his face, rubbing the black grease paint from his eyes with a rag. "Sir, might I say once more as to how unutterably stupid this entire thing is?" Alfred whispered as they stood in the main cave, Bruce setting out some food on one workbench near the short tunnel and placing the dufflebag on the surface as well. "One is an ex-criminal, another is a girl that – from the reports and news articles that you've shown me – needs a little bit more than just some neat little pills to keep her from dreaming."

"Dom will be here tomorrow, and you and I will need to have supplies ready for him. This thing is huge, Freddy Kruger has terrorized the people of that town and as their generations continue they spread him like a disease." The young man sighed. "He needs to be stopped, and Dom is the only one that can help us with that."

"I still don't like it. Make no mistake." Alfred sighed, looking over the food and caffeinated drinks that Bruce had brought for his two secret guests. "Are you going to tell them who the Batman is?"

"I'll have to. We're going to be wandering around in Nancy's mind, they'll need to know."

"That'll be just peachy; you think Dr. Crane has forgotten about the fear toxin you overdosed him with?"

"So far I haven't seen any negative side effects on him."

"And you've become so close to him." Alfred scoffed and Bruce wondered when his butler had become more like one of those good friends that treated you like an idiot but really wanted you to make the right decision.

"We have two days to get close to each other and after this entire affair is done with I can deal with Jonathan."

Alfred made a face at his master before turning and locking himself in the elevator, pushing the button for the top floor decisively. As the thick metal cage rose into the air, Bruce sighed and began to undress from his suit. He only hoped that the rumor of the infamous Bruce Wayne being under the weather was enough to subdue the rest of the world, at least for the next week.

oOo

When Dom arrived he had braced himself for the condition of the two that he would be helping. He was more prepared for Nancy's condition than he was for Jonathan's. It was difficult seeing the doctor, he couldn't quite look the other man in the eye as he sat across a rather large table from him. Bruce, disguised as the Batman, came into the room and Jonathan's face had a mixture of slight happiness and uncertainty. He looked like he enjoyed the man's presence, but didn't want to let it show. For that reason a memory of sky-blue eyes lighting up the same way towards him flickered across Dom's own mind. He would never admit how much he enjoyed being the sole source of trust for those eyes, despite how horribly he had misused that trust.

He had to wonder how his actions had affected his target, but pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.

This was a new project and it wouldn't do to be trapped with old memories.

When the Batman spoke, Dom turned to look up at him, patiently listening to his small speech even though his mind was somewhere else entirely. "I have the supplies we'll need for the extraction."

"My partner will be showing up soon, I can brief you all on what we generally do and how this will be different."

"Why should it be different?" Nancy asked, her arms folded over her thin chest.

"My partner, Ariadne, is an architect, she builds the worlds of dreams and when she does this that world becomes the dreamer's reality. Unfortunately, since we have Kruger added into the equation, her skills become useless, seeing as he has built the world of your mind after so many years. Ariadne is going to be fighting him for control of the dream, essentially tricking him into believing that what she has created is reality. To do so, we're going to break some very specific rules."

"Such as?"

"Extractors are not allowed to make worlds from memory, it ruins your sense of reality and causes you to not know when you're dreaming or not. Also, we're going to be going through several layers of a dream and we're going to be pulling something from the dream into reality – namely Fred Kruger."

"That doesn't work." Nancy whispered softly.

"Not the way you do it." Dom stated. He grabbed a piece of paper from a nearby notepad and a pen, standing and moving to stand between the two friends. "You see, extractors, like Ariadne and myself, we usually deal with two layers of dreams, it is a general policy that you don't go into three layers because at that point you can permanently damage or change someone's mind." Dom drew three lines, indicating layers of the dream. "True dreams actually have nine layers, or circles, and the further you go, the baser and more horrifying the dreams get." Dom drew six more layers before drawing a vertical line next to the edge of those drawn layers, making a mirroring set on the other side of the line. "Now Dreamers have the job to invade a subconscious and keep the dream on track, this is possible within the first two layers and to an extent the third, however once you get to deeper layers you slowly lose your sense of your individuality and consciousness." Bold black scribbles formed, showing the mingling of thoughts and consciousness. "The ninth layer is where we're going to be headed to retrieve Kruger, and this is going to be difficult because it is the collective conscious of the entire human race." Beneath the ninth line the words "collective conscious" were written in bold, slanting handwriting.

"How is that possible?" Jonathan asked with a scowl. "You're implying of a mass telepathic union, stuff of science fiction and fantasy."

"Only because the human brain does not utilize its entire capacity." Dom stated, tapping his temple. "How much of the brain is actually used? Ten, maybe thirty percent, that remaining ninety to seventy percent of your brain lies dormant. We're not enlightened beings, hence we're unable to utilize the more powerful functions of the brain. In dreams we access old memories, subconscious urges and thoughts that we weren't entirely aware of, and sometimes there's that random little occurrence in a dream that isn't really part of anything in our lives and we usually just write off as a hiccup in our subconscious. The deeper the dream, the more likely another's subconscious has leaked into your own."

"So if we all have the capability for shared dreaming, why use the somnacin?" Jonathan internally blinked at the fact that he knew what that drug was, frowning at the wayward strand of information. Had he known about the drug before? He must have.

"Because the somnacin focuses the brain, directs it towards the consciousness of those using the drug in the nearby vicinity, and channels people towards one another. Otherwise our minds would simply brush by one another."

"So when we're under will we have control of what others see?" Jonathan asked curiously.

"Not really, within the first three layers, yes, but after that we're going to be getting to know each other really well."

Jonathan looked over at Batman, who had been listening silently the entire time. "Well, Bat Man, looks like we'll have to take a look under that mask of yours."

"It's not a mask." The vigilante growled, grabbing one of the ears of the head and tugging the entire covering off. "It's a cowl."

Jonathan's eyes widened at the sight of Bruce Wayne and he blinked, obviously unable to form words to describe what he was seeing.

"Bruce Wayne." Nancy murmured, her eyes looking over his face skeptically. "How do you keep gossip rags at bay?"

"I have my ways." Bruce gave a smile to the girl and Jonathan felt sick at how charming it was, looking away with a scowl.

"Almost a disappointment now. I can't blab to the world or else I'll be sent back to Arkham."

Bruce made to say something when someone cleared their throat and the group looked up to see Alfred in the elevator. "A Miss Ariadne is in the foyer, sir."

"I'll be up in a minute." Bruce stated quickly, moving into the elevator. "Dom, does she…?"

"What kind of partner would I be if she didn't?" Dom asked with a shrug, moving to sit back down, leaving the notepad between Nancy and Jonathan.

Bruce quickly changed into civilian clothing, ran his hands through his hair, before he went into the foyer to greet the architect.

Ariadne was much younger than Bruce had expected when Dom had told him about her over the plane's phone when he had been flying over. He had expected someone older, more professional-looking, with a clipped voice and a strict face. Instead he was presented with what looked to be an art student, dressed in jeans, layers upon layers of thin shirts and a ratty jacket covered in pins and buttons. The one he liked the most was one on her lapel that read "In Case of Zombie Apocalypse, Follow Me".

"You're Mr. Wayne?" She asked, removing her messenger bag and holding out her hand. "Where's Dom?"

Bruce was surprised that Ariadne wasn't star-struck by the fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Most women would fall over themselves to be seen with him, but this girl acted professional towards him, despite her appearance. "He's downstairs." The older man stated with a charming smile.

When the brunette girl was led below, she didn't so much as blink at the Batcave, instantly zeroing in on Dom, who was sitting with Jonathan and Nancy in some chairs. A large section of the workshop had been turned into a war room of sorts, several supplies, files and photographs laid out on the table for the group.

"Dom, you owe me, big time." The young girl scowled at her companion, before her eyes landed on Nancy. "Oh my god… You're Nancy Holbrook." The other young woman nodded silently, more reserved since she had gotten some dreamless sleep. "I've read so many studies on you… Oh my god, wow… This is…" Ariadne's hands made a gesture and she smiled. "I'm Ariadne."

"It's nice to meet you." Nancy held out her hand to the other young woman and they shook, Dom rolling his eyes before gesturing for his partner to sit. She paused at the sight of Jonathan, glancing at Dom, who shook his head to keep her quiet.

"You briefed them already?"

"Consider us briefed on what we're doing, we just need the specifics on how you two plan on helping us get rid of a dream monster."

"Well, like I said, we're going deeper than is safe, since in order to extract Kruger we'll need to pull him from the collective conscious. Within the next week all of us will be working on how we'll pull this off."

"What do you need us to do?" Nancy asked, all to eager to find out how to rid herself of her worst nightmare.

"We need to find out how we'll get through all the layers without getting lost or assimilated into a hive mind, we'll also need several kicks in order to get out of the dreams." Ariadne explained as she began to unpack things from her bag. "Also, all three of you will need to have a totem."

"Totem?" Jonathan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A small object that you're intimately familiar with, so that you know when you're out of the dream." Ariadne pulled out her small bishop, holding it out for the three to see. "Only I know the exact size, shape, weight and texture of this chessman."

"Likewise with this." Dom pulled out his top, spinning it gently before he swept it up in his hand. "You three will either have to make one of your own or find something that you own that will help you stay anchored to reality."

"We have a lot of planning and work to do, and you two only have a limited amount of Hypnocil, so we should try to get everything done as quickly as possible." Bruce pointed out, the group making motions and sounds of agreement.

Ariadne silently gave Dom a look, which conveyed so many demands and outraged statements that the older man knew he would have a lot of explaining to do between work.


	4. Only In Dreams Are Desires Victimless

**A/N: I'd like to thank all the guys at Bedrock City for helping me out with this. I had to confront some of my comic guru's in order to help clear up some stuff about a new character. By the end of this story I'll probably have the biggest motherfucking crossover this site has ever seen, but that's okay as long as people still read it!**

**Please review! This story can't get done without encouragement and feedback!**

He couldn't honestly believe that he was Jonathan Crane.

Dom watched the doctor as he carefully paged through news articles, obituaries and various other media, his glasses sliding down his nose occasionally, only to be pushed back up. Nancy had taken some Hypnocil and was blissfully ignorant of what was going on around her as she lay on the soft bed.

"I trust progress is being made?" Alfred asked casually as he placed a tray of coffee and wafer cookies on the table near Jonathan, who smiled and nodded, standing and placing the files down.

"I believe so. If my assumptions are correct, Freddy Kruger can only control those who fear him. Take away the fear, you take away the control and you become essentially invincible to him."

"Well, fear is your specialty, I'll leave you to it and stick with making simple meals."

"It's strange, though," Jonathan frowned, picking up a cup of coffee, ignoring the food on the plate resolutely. "A few days ago, I had a dream that he had come to me. The description matched perfectly: a burned man wearing a Christmas sweater and fedora with a hand made out of knives."

"Did he do anything to you?" Dom asked from where he had been listening.

Jonathan turned, frowning slightly. "Not to me." The brunette man ran a hand through his slightly long hair. He needed to get it cut, it was too close to his neck for his fancy. "The thing that bothers me is that I saw his face. The mind cannot conjure a face out of nothing, you had to have seen that face before." Dom's heart sped up and he swallowed, trying not to seem as nervous as he was. "So my question is, where have _I _seen Fred Kruger before, I didn't grow up on Elm Street, nor am I a descendant of someone who lived there, as far as I know."

"It's definitely something to look into." Dom stated with his own frown. "People don't just randomly see Freddy Kruger. He's selective and meticulous about his victims. Extractors first started as a project in an attempt to prevent things like Kruger from spreading in dreams, turns out that if he didn't want to be found, you wouldn't find him."

Jonathan frowned, leaning back in his chair as he sat with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, lighting up the Pall Mall with the flickering, dying lighter he had received. A long drag and the brunette sighed, billowing smoke around his head as he looked up at the cave ceiling. "Again… Where have I seen him before?"

oOo

"Wake up!"

Freddy Kruger howled as he banged against the thick invisible partition between him and Nancy. She was the last one – well, second to last, but he'd deal with the other later – and he couldn't get to her. The man's burned visage twisted and he snarled as he dragged his gloved hand down the glass. She had started taking that damn Hypnocil, along with everyone else in the fucking Mansion, so he was essentially powerless. He couldn't even possess one of her little friends because they had pretty much blockaded him out.

But he could wait, he could be patient, because Hypnocil was in short supply and eventually they would either let their guards down or run out of the drug. And when that happened, he'd be ready.

"Someone's upset." A lilting, gentle voice sounded and Kruger's nostrils flared with the scent of peaches, turning to see a figure, about his same size, made up of pale skin, dark hair and full red lips. Golden eyes narrowed and a brief smile came to those lips and Kruger snarled.

"Shut up, Desire."

"Oh, is baby not getting his way?" Desire sauntered over, peering at Nancy as a long finger ran through his own hair. "I admit, she's quite pretty."

"Don't you have teenagers that you need to give wet dreams to?" Kruger asked, turning back to the invisible wall and slamming his fist against it.

"Are you still mad about that little prank?" Desire pouted, the killer seriously considering wiping the expression off of the Endless' face as he did so. "Come on, it was funny that the kid thought you were a model and got a hard on when you threatened his life."

"You're a sick, sick fucker."

"Hmm…" Long, slim hands slid around Freddy's shoulders, tugging him back with an unnerving strength. "You love that about me." A sharp chin pressed to the other man's shoulder and Desire hummed as he looked at Nancy. "So, Hypnocil?"

"Yup." Freddy growled, knowing better than to push the other away. He still got unwillingly wet thoughts every so often whenever he thought of Jason Voorhees. Never let it be said that Desire wasn't childishly cruel. He had a horrible tendancy to pick at Freddy, due to the fact that the killer was rules by his passions. "Can't even get to the Fischer kid, either."

"Hmm…" Desire looked thoughtful as he pressed up against Freddy's back, his flat chest and – blessedly – flat groin molding against the dream demon's own lacking curves. "You should have eaten more when you were alive." A pointed bump of hips. "You could use some padding."

"That's it!" Freddy pulled away, shuddering as he glared at Desire. "Leave me in peace, I have to think of a way to get at these people!"

"I scratch your back, you scratch mine?" Desire asked, hand on a skinny hip as Freddy looked at the figure. "I'm bored, what better way to entertain myself with some home-made drama?"

"You can get through this?"

"I have my ways around such things." Desire murmured, smirking as long legs carried him off, Freddy would have raised an eyebrow if he had any left as he followed, curious despite previous experience telling him he was better off not knowing.

The Endless was meandering around, a blank expression in honey gold eyes as he carefully determined where he was stopping. After a moment he found what he was looking for an a reflection appeared in his eyes, Freddy moving to gaze into the spying pools to watch the events unfold.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, secret vigilante, sat at his desk at Wayne Enterprises, signing papers and reading over reports, bored witless and longing to be away from the monotony. A sudden rush pulsed through him and his hand tightened around his pen, his shoulders seizing as he gave a small shudder, looking around with a frown as he blinked slowly. No one else was around at the moment and so the dark-haired man leaned back in his chair, letting out a few deep, meditative breaths.

Freddy grinned as he saw the fantasy Desire was carefully constructing, saw it being performed before him, tormenting poor Bruce, who shuddered and rubbed at his eyes as conscience and logic bombarded him. The minute the billionaire finally gave into the day-dream, kissing full lips and lacing fingers in fine brown strands of hair, the image dissipated and Bruce was left with a bubbling arousal in his stomach and a tight frown on his lips.

"Interesting…" Freddy murmured as Desire's eyes slowly returned to normal, long lashes blinking slowly as a plan formulated in the killer's mind.

A clawed hand grabbed hold of the Endless' throat and Desire blinked in surprise, grabbing at the thick wrist covered in leather. "What are you doing, Freddy?"

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours." Two fleshy fingers pressed to Desire's eyes and the Endless' mouth opened in a scream.

"Dream! Morpheus!" The shout was unheard and soon Kruger's own eyes were gouged out, replaced with Desire's own glowing golden orbs, leaving Desire blind and shuddering on the ground, hands pressed over the empty sockets of his face. "You bastard! My eyes! I can't move without my eyes!"

"Then you'll be right here when I give them back." Freddy chuckled. "Who knew that an _Endless_ could be so vulnerable without something as trivial as eyes?" Desire whimpered, wishing that one of his siblings would arrive to help, but knowing that such a wish was futile. They all hated him anyway. "Don't give me that look." Freddy sighed, Desire feeling the shift of the world around him, knowing that Freddy was doing something to the architecture of the dream but not knowing what. "Here, comfy?" Desire felt himself being cradled by a soft cushion, blinking heavy eyelids as he looked around blindly, groping for something to tell him where he was in relation to everything else.

Kruger himself was already feeling the effects of assimilating part of the Endless with his own body. Watching the blind Desire sitting on the large bed, like an idol on display, made the dream demon growl lowly. He had been pushed around by Desire for long enough, he was sick of it and while he was still powerless against Nancy and her quaint little friends, he could still have some fun while he waited.

The bed dipped and Desire scrambled away, looking around wildly. "Where are you? Get back!" So used to seeing everything with his eyes, blindness alone was almost too much to bear. It made him vulnerable, and Desire disliked the sensation greatly as it made fear curl in his chest.

Freddy took a deep breath, pressing his face to Desire's cheek and licking the flesh there roughly. "You taste like peaches." He murmured and Desire made a noise of disgust, slapping the man's cheek. He instantly found himself pinned and the Endless struggled, screaming and kicking and making a scene as Freddy pulled long legs about his waist. "You have such beautiful screams…"

Desire's mouth snapped shut when he felt the demon rubbing his groin against the Endless' inner thighs. Suddenly, the embodiment of lust and attraction regretted all the times he had teased the dream demon. Dreams were not his realm and he should have stayed out of them like Morpheus had ordered him to. He had no power over Kruger and the demon knew it.

A burning, sudden pain and Desire arched, screaming as those rusting blades were dragged down his thigh, slicing open his pants and leaving one leg bloodied and exposed. The other leg was treated in the same fashion and Desire howled, clawing at the man's face and chest in an attempt to force him off. "Stop it! Get off of me!" The struggles only served to make Freddy grin, pulling Desire up by his short, dark hair. "Mph!"

"You better hope they run out of Hypnocil soon." The burnt man growled gutturally. "Because otherwise… You'll be my entertainment for some time."

oOo

Alfred cleaned up the untouched plate of food that he had placed next to Jonathan earlier, frowning slightly as he continued to clean, Jonathan smoking a cigarette as he circled statements in copies of news articles. Everyone else was asleep, Jonathan being the only one pondering over certain details that seemed to elude him. Ariadne had begun to put together a skeleton of architecture, knowing that her plans would most likely be severely altered or destroyed by Kruger, but liking to have a plan as well.

"Doctor, if my cooking is not to your liking, perhaps I might order a meal from somewhere else within the city for you." Alfred stated casually.

"I don't like to eat, I told you to simply not bring me food."

"You need to eat, you can't get all your nutrients from coffee and cigarettes."

Jonathan sighed, taking a long drag and ignoring Alfred as the older man sat beside him. "What was one of your favorite childhood meals?"

The doctor paused, having to think about that statement. "I don't recall much of my childhood." The brunette frowned before shaking his head. "Anyways, it isn't the taste of food that bothers me. It's the look of it."

Alfred looked at the meal he had set out. It looked perfectly decent to him. "I don't quite follow."

"I…" Jonathan paused, looking as if he was torn between saying something to Alfred or simply hiding the reason he didn't want to eat. "Whenever I see food… I see maggots in it…" The doctor looked away from Alfred. "Whenever the Bat… Bruce… Overdosed me with my own toxin… It became difficult for me to stop hallucinating. I recovered from just about everything, it's just that I still see bugs and maggots in my food, sometimes I even smell poison in it."

"I can assure you, doctor Crane," Alfred placed his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "I have not put maggots or poison in your food. If you wish you can watch me cook upstairs whenever I make a meal."

Jonathan was silent for a few moments before he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't hate him, you know." Alfred was silent, hearing footsteps nearby but not allowing himself to glance in their direction, focused on Jonathan to let the man talk. "Yeah, I'm pissed that he poisoned me, but I set him on fire so I guess that's payback enough." Long fingers rubbed at blue eyes from behind the thick glasses. "But I don't hate him like the others… He annoys me, infuriates me, but so far in my life the only two people who don't do that are you and Nancy." Jonathan frowned. "I've been out of Arkham for a while. I didn't realize that I had gotten so soft until I found myself here, willingly asking the Bat Man for help."

"Perhaps you're just experiencing a very human and very normal emotion, if you don't mind my analysis."

Jonathan smiled at the butler, tilting his head. "And what's that emotion?"

"Affection, doctor." Alfred stated with a smile, standing up and giving a thin shoulder a firm squeeze before cleaning up the dishes.

"Alfred… Leave the food?"

The butler smiled and nodded, placing Jonathan's plate back on the table before leaving the Batcave. As he walked past the tunnel leading to the hidden bedroom, he saw Dom Cobb standing in the tunnel, staring at Jonathan as the man began to pick at his food, attempting to eat. Alfred frowned, making a note to keep an eye on the extractor. He didn't like the man's behavior.


	5. Dangerous Men Are Dreamers of The Day

**A/N: Okay, just so that I get this straight, characters are placed in order of age:**

**Desire the Endless/Any Suggestions?**

**Freddy Kruger/Jackie Earle Haley (Sorry Robert Englund)**

**Alfred/Michael Caine**

**Dom Cobb/Leonardo Dicaprio**

**Jonathan Crane/Cillian Murphy**

**Bruce Wayne/Christian Bale**

**Ariadne/ Ellen Page**

**Nancy Holbrook/Rooney Mara**

"You honestly don't know who he is?" Dom asked Bruce suddenly, standing in the man's office at Wayne Enterprises. Nancy and Jonathan were both out cold, too exhausted to work. Ariadne and Alfred had decided to remain with them, taking turns watching the two to make sure that the Hypnocil didn't wear off before they woke.

The project was almost ready, everyone's roles defined except for Jonathan, who Dom was adamant about not joining them in the dream realm.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce asked, standing and closing his office door. He turned and glared at Dom, who met the expression steadfastly.

"You ever find it strange that Jonathan can't remember things about his childhood that most people can recall on instinct?"

"We don't all remember everything about our childhoods."

"Name what happened on your sixteenth birthday." Dom demanded and Bruce responded without pause.

"I spent it with Alfred, he and I went to California for a week because I had said that I wanted to go to the beach there."

"Jonathan doesn't remember what happened on his sixteenth birthday, why do you think that is? And some things he remembers are so arbitrary that the gaps are obvious." Dom frowned as he stood in front of Bruce. "You have to convince him to not participate in the dream."

Bruce paused at that, frowning at the extractor. "Why? You said so yourself, Nancy needs to trust at least one of the team and Jonathan is the only one."

"But Jonathan can't enter the dreams, not without causing some serious problems for everyone else and himself."

Bruce thought over the statement, his eyebrows furrowing. "Is this about his meds? Scarecrow?"

"Not just Scarecrow." Dom looked out the enormous window, thinking about a similar view a certain Japanese Tycoon had in his office. "There are some secrets that not even Crane knows he has. He was one of my biggest projects and I won't have that work completely undone by a trip into the collective conscious."

Bruce frowned, wanting to ask about what Dom had done to Jonathan, but knowing better. By now he simply had to trust that Dom knew what he was doing. "You'll have to tell him."

"He won't listen to me. He'll listen to you."

Bruce was shocked by this, eyebrows rising as he stared at the other man. "Really? You obviously don't know our history."

"That doesn't matter to him." The blonde man made a face. "He trusts you, despite what you might think."

Bruce rubbed his eyes. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"Believe me, I don't like it, but it's the truth." Dom sighed. "Just… Trust me on this… He'll listen to you."

Bruce pursed his lips before he sighed and waved the other man off. "Fine, I'll… Talk to him."

"Just remember, it's for everyone's safety that he remains behind." Dom nodded before he turned and left the room, Bruce watching him until the door shut behind the shorter man.

Sitting down in his chair, the billionaire had to wonder how well his scheduled conversation with Jonathan would go. Well, if he had enough sleep, was eating properly and had a cup of coffee in hand, the worst that Bruce could expect would be a cup of scalding coffee in his face.

The dark-haired man sighed as he rested his forehead against his palm, rubbing his fingers along his temple as he thought of the battle that he would have to go through with Jonathan. He knew the older man well enough now to know that he could predict how this argument would go. Granted, nowadays Jonathan wouldn't spray him in the face with fear toxin to get his way or prove a point, but the doctor could still be very stubborn and persuasive.

Invariably, the argument, as Bruce had with Dom, would turn to the fact that Nancy – beyond all reason – trusted Jonathan and that logically she would trust him in her mind the most. Dom could always outright refuse Jonathan a line, lock him up if he needed to, but doubtless in the end, whether or not the extractor believed it to be the best option, Nancy's will would prevail.

It was strange how she didn't seem to realize just how much control she had.

oOo

Ariadne sighed as she watched Nancy stirring, looking up from her sketch pad with a smile. "Hey."

Brown eyes that weren't as sunken or red-rimmed as they had been previously glanced over at the other girl. "Hey." It was strange, they were the only two females, pretty much hidden in the batcave twenty-four seven, and they had never really had a conversation. Nancy's eyes drifted down to the pad and she smiled. "You're an artist?"

"I'm a real-life architect too." Ariadne smiled back, almost as if they were sharing an artists' secret. "What do you do?"

"Faces mostly… Abstracts… Things I see in dreams." Nancy shrugged, staring at the building that the other woman had drawn, taking in the intricate detail of the baroque structure. Ariadne turned the page of her sketchpad, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Nancy.

"If you want to draw something." She shrugged, smiling gently.

Nancy's face fell and a frown found her lips as she stared at the paper. Sighing, the young woman folded the paper carefully, slipping it into the pocket of her jeans along with a pen from the cup of writing utensils on the desk near the door of the room before offering a strained smile at Ariadne. "Thanks..." Her eyes flickered over to Jonathan, her fingers reaching out to stroke some fine brown strands from his face. "Tell him that I'm going to help Alfred make dinner if he wakes up?" Ariadne smiled and nodded, reassuring the other young woman that she would do so.

Once Nancy left Ariadne sighed, turning her gaze to Jonathan.

He hadn't really changed over the years. He still had that strangely, blissfully, innocent look on his face as he slept, brown hair ruffled about his head as he rested his cheek on his fist, his other arm hugging his own waist in a parody of an embrace.

It was a pity that he had turned out the way he did…

She remembered when Dom had shown her the news cast, when she had seen his face her heart had almost stopped. Their greatest project, their most unstable success, had attempted to consume all of Gotham City with fear. They hadn't been able to say anything, how could they? Their mission was so covert that if they had said anything not only would they be arrested and tried for mental perjury, they would have been the target for every bounty hunter and assassin in the known world, the prices on their heads would be so high.

Ariadne stared at Jonathan for a bit more, lips pursed and eyes absent as she did so. She wasn't blind to Dom's behavior, she had never been as blissfully ignorant as the others as to just how often their leader didn't follow the rules. That did not mean that she agreed with it or let Dom get away with what he did half the time. Sometimes Ariadne felt as if she had become her friend's conscience, replacing Mal in a way. However, even she couldn't convince her stubborn partner to tell the truth.

She had practically attempted to beat the idea into his thick skull, but she was pretty sure that even an inception wouldn't get him to tell Jonathan the truth, much less anyone else.

"Ariadne?" Jonathan mumbled as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes slowly, a soft sigh escaping him. "Could you ask Alfred if he could bring me some coffee?"

The brunette girl smiled, nodding. It was always so weird when Jonathan woke up. It was as if he was a completely different person, even his speech becoming muffled and gentler with drowsiness. Usually that went away fairly quickly and the snarky, sulking Jonathan that everyone knew would return.

"Thank you." Jonathan stood, rubbing his eyes and looking around. "Where's Nancy?"

"With Alfred." Ariadne smiled and Jonathan chuckled.

"Well then, I suppose it would be pointless to send you up there if I need to go anyway." Jonathan smiled. "Rest up, soldier."

And with that the brunette left the room, making his way to the rickety elevator, closing his eyes as he did so. When he finally made it to the kitchen, Alfred was alone, stirring a pot of what looked to be beef stew as he listened to a news cast playing on the small TV set nearby.

"Alfred, where's Nancy?" Jonathan asked, tilting his head curiously as he looked around the kitchen.

"I haven't seen her since Ariadne replaced me on watch." Alfred turned, looking at Jonathan. "Coffee, doctor?" He gestured to the warm pot that seemed to have become a permanently working appliance in the kitchen.

"Thank you." Jonathan poured himself a cup. "Ariadne said that she would be helping you."

"Perhaps she made a detour into one of the bathrooms for a proper shower?"

Jonathan nodded. "Perhaps." Standing in the kitchen for a few minutes, the brunette man caught sight of the various vegetables and potatoes that Alfred had used to make the stew, grabbing a small carrot and began munching on it.

"Your appetite has improved."

"I still can't eat pasta, but yes, I've gotten a better handle on my eating." Jonathan finished the carrot before standing and wiping off his hands. "I think I'll follow Nancy's example and take a shower." He murmured, running a hand through his hair."

"As you wish, sir."

Climbing up the stairs, Jonathan made his way to one of the first guest rooms, opening the door and preparing to meander into the attached bathroom. He paused when he saw the door across from the one he had chosen ajar. Alfred made sure to close every door of every room that was not in use. It was a compulsion of his. Dom was gone, as well as Bruce from what the brunette could tell, and Ariadne had been downstairs the entire time. Walking across the hall, Jonathan knocked on the door, pushing it open slightly.

"Nancy?" His voice was soft, coaxing as he stepped into the room, wide blue eyes taking in the area.

Everything was in its proper place, nothing was disturbed. There was steam coming out of the open bathroom door and as Jonathan approached it, his eyes caught sight of something red leaking over the edge of the jam and onto the carpet.

The brunette felt his heart stop as he raced into the bathroom, throwing the door completely open and casting his eyes around wildly.

Nancy was lying in the shower, shivering and holding a hand tightly over her left shoulder, the juncture sporting four long, thick slashes that were bleeding heavily. Nancy's other hand dangled out of the bottom of the shower, a piece of wet blood and water logged paper floating in the pool of fluids inches from her delicate digits.

"Nancy!" Jonathan immediately dove into action, grabbing hold of the girl's naked form and lifting her into his arms. "Nancy, wake up!" He called, lightly slapping her face. Her brown eyes flickered for a moment, and that was all the hope he needed to carry her out of the bathroom and lay her on the bed, rummaging around the bathroom for a first aid kit. He came up with the kit and a towel, covering her shivering body with the terry cloth before he looked at her wound.

"Alfred, get over here!" Jonathan called loudly, his eyes checking over Nancy for any other wounds. Thankfully, her shoulder seemed to be the only thing that had suffered damage. Jonathan folded several bandages into square pads, taping them quickly with the textured medical tape before he placed them asideand grabbed the needle and thread used for stitches. Whispering soft apologies as Alfred's footsteps could be heard approaching, Jonathan began to slowly stitch the wounds shut, being careful not to cross threads as he closed the thick cuts.

"Good god." Alfred whispered, staring at the scene.

"I need you to cut those bandages into strips." Jonathan nodded to the rolls of thick gauze. "She lost a lot of blood and we can't put her under at the hospital for a transfusion."

Alfred did as he was told, Jonathan finishing his stitches and placing his hand-made pads on Nancy's shoulder. "Come on, Nancy, wake up for me. Wake up."

Eyes fluttered once more and Nancy twitched her hand, staring up at Jonathan mutely as she watched him bandaging her shoulder. "No-…" She murmured, sitting up and looking towards the bathroom.

"Nancy, lie down, you've lost blood."

"No… No..ote…" The brunette girl murmured, Jonathan frowning.

"What note?" The older man paused before looking at Alfred. "There's a paper in the bathroom."

The butler stood, moving to walk through the pooling fluids before picking up the note, dripping with blood and water on one side and still relatively dry on the other. There was an image drawn in pen of a mirror, dark and abysmal with an sketchy frame and a pair of glowing eyes embedded in the darkness. Beneath that, written in Nancy's petite handwriting was a brief note.

_Our desires are dreams seen with open eyes._


	6. We All Meet on The Landscapes of Dreams

**A/N: Okay, okay, I think I can give a relatively complete list of crossovers at this point… So here we go.**

**Batman/Nightmare on Elm Street/Inception/Sandman/Silent Hill/Peacock/Red Eye/Breakfast on Pluto**

**This list might change as the story goes on, but we'll see. I have an outline and I'm trying to fit as much as I possibly can into it.**

"Brother!" Desire slapped his hands against the walls, groping around the circular room as he screamed. He had managed to regain some control over his eyes, despite them being embedded in the face of a dream demon. He had even managed to get out a message to the victims of Kruger's rage, but he didn't know how long he could hold some semblance of control.

It wasn't that he wanted to help them. They were humans and, in the end, inconsequential to him. But they were currently the only ones that could get rid of Freddy and he needed them to know how to do so.

"Bitch!"

Desire's head spun with dizziness as he was slammed against a wall, for a moment catching a strange sight of his own body crushed by a hand on his spine against the heavy stone of the room.

"Don't think I didn't see that little stunt you pulled."

Desire grunted and managed to lash out, his nails curling as they came in contact with skin, peeling off a section of the demon's burned face. Kruger let out a snarl of shock and pain before he grabbed Desire's short hair, slamming his forehead into the wall numerous times.

"You! Can't! Save! Them!" Desire's body crumpled to the ground and he whimpered as those long, wicked blades ran along his back and side, fingering at previously-made tears in his clothing. "You can't even save yourself without your eyes."

The Endless glared as best he could at the demon's voice, trembling as he curled in on himself. "My brother will come for me." He whispered and Kruger laughed.

"Your brother? The one that you've harassed and pushed away and maliciously betrayed time and time again?" Full red lips trembled and Desire looked at the floor despite not being able to see. He didn't want his captor to see his face. Those claws gently stroked Desire's pale cheek and Freddy knelt over his frame. "Shh…" The gloved hand cupped his skull and the Endless flinched at the touch. He had never been afraid. He was unable to die, so no matter what Kruger did to him he would not disappear by the hands of his sister. However, he could feel pain and he knew from experience that his captor was capable of horribly large amounts of agony.

"You can keep my eyes." The Endless whispered, soft and gentle as he lay on the ground. "Just let me return to my siblings. I want my brothers and sisters."

"Aww…" The low, guttural sound sent chills down Desire's spine, and not the good kind that he liked either. "Is my pet lonely?"

My eye sockets widened and I shook my head as I scrambled back. I didn't know what he had planned, but it couldn't be good. "No, no, I just want you to let me go."

"You're lonely. I guess since I leave you alone so much you'd be feeling the need for affection more often."

That horrible gloved hand was around the slimmer figure's neck and Desire tried to scream, but the familiar feeling of falling through a dream dimension stole his breath. He could smell the oppressive stench of smoke and rot and copulation and the scent was so overpowering that Desire collapsed on the hard, hot ground, the gravel rubbing at his cheek as he looked around blindly.

"Say hello to Pyramid Head for me."

Desire inhaled deeply, forcing himself to his feet and turning his head frantically at the sounds of skittering and gravel flying about him making him shiver in fear. "Hello?" He called out, feeling vulnerable and so horribly… Human.

And that was when the realization struck him.

Without his eyes, without his power, he was nothing more than a human that couldn't die. He had no way to defend himself and he was completely and utterly helpless to whatever monsters lurked within the darkness that surrounded him. He felt soft, dusty flakes of something flutter from the sky his hand smearing some across his pale cheek as he wandered, hands out and head turning at every sound that surrounded him.

A dog bark sounded and the Endless turned with a scream when he heard the pounding of paws on gravel, the monstrous thing launching at him and sinking its teeth in his arm. The crooked, jagged fangs tore at flesh, gnawing and Desire struggled against the beast, grabbing at its snout and trying to jerk his arm free.

There was a gunshot and Desire jumped, instantly curling in on himself as the beast atop him reared up before falling to the ground lifelessly. Heavy boot steps approached and a steel lined toe nudged at him.

"Hands where I can see them." The voice was clipped and firm, though distinctly feminine. It was the sort of voice that Desire knew from observation to belong to someone in law enforcement. Holding his shaking, bleeding hands up, the blinded man turned, tilting his head towards the woman uncertainly. "My name is Officer Cybil Bennett, what is your name?"

oOo

"He's invading reality through daydreams and fantasies." Nancy swallowed thickly as she held a mug of steaming coffee, her arm in a sling and her face pale from blood loss. The temporary war room had been moved to the bedroom of the Batcave, the group gathered looking nervously at one another. "We're not safe asleep… We aren't even safe awake anymore." She whispered shakily, clutching the paper that had been in the bathroom with her. "His eyes are different now too." The brunette girl looked up. "They're yellow and they glow… Previously they were just… eyes… They were darker than normal, but they were human."

"I don't care about the eyes." Dom snapped. "He's still the enemy and now he's invading our waking fantasies. We need to go under today."

"Nancy is injured; we can't just go in with her barely functioning from blood loss!"

"I'll be fine, Jon." Nancy whispered, smiling at the brunette.

"You will be fine, and Jonathan, you can take care of her up here because you're not going."

There was still, deadly silence for a moment before Jonathan took a slow, deep breath through his nostrils. "I'm sorry, I believe I heard you wrong."

"No, you heard just right: you're not going." Dom repeated, meeting the man's blue gaze firmly. "You're unstable."

"I am perfectly fine." Jonathan snapped out, though he was stopped from saying anything else when several orange bottles were held up for him to see.

"Respiradol, lexapro, fluoxetine… Which one did you run out of last?"

Jonathan scowled, looking away.

"Are we even talking to Jonathan Crane right now?"

Bruce frowned, looking between the two. He definitely knew that he wasn't talking to Scarecrow, so who on earth would he be talking to now?

Before he could speak up Jonathan spoke again. "You're talking to Emma Skillpa." He whispered and Nancy's head shot up to look at him. "Jonathan… He was there when I saw Nancy in the bathroom… He was the one that performed first aid… I just… I panicked and I didn't know who else would know what to do."

"Who else would you have called?" Dom asked with a frown. "Who else is in there?"

Emma rubbed at her arm, then at her jaw before sighing softly. "My husband, John Skillpa… But he's not a doctor, he's very nervous and skittish… He probably would have panicked." The brunette ran a hand through her hair before sighing. "Kitten would have called the police… But then Nancy would have been put under and killed by Kruger… I thought about calling Jackson Ripner, but he's used to having others do the dirty work, he's a manager… And Robert Fischer would have… Well, probably wouldn't have done anything since he's never seen Nancy and doesn't care about her." Emma looked up with a shrug. "So I called Jonathan."

"What about Scarecrow, is he in there?" Bruce asked, frowning at the sheer number of personalities that had taken over Jonathan.

Emma's face paled and her hand trembled. "Yes… But we keep him locked up. Ever since Arkham he's been worse and worse and we all agreed to put him in a safe place."

"You agreed? You all know of each other?" Bruce frowned, this wasn't as difficult to wrap his mind around as he thought it would be, but it was still very confusing.

Emma nodded and looked away. "You can talk to anyone in your dreams." She smiled vaguely and pressed her hands to her chest. "In dreams… We're a family…"

"You all aren't even supposed to exist!" Dom shouted angrily and Ariadne snapped her gaze to him warningly with a hiss of his name. "You, your husband, Jackson, all of you, you're all mistakes! You weren't supposed to happen!"

Emma slapped the man, and instead of the light sting of a woman's hand it was the full blown pain of a man's, silencing Dom. "You don't know what it was like for him!" The woman in a man's body shouted. "It was your fault that he needed us!"

"Wait, who? Who needed you? Jonathan?" Nancy spoke up, looking up at Emma pleadingly.

Emma stared at Nancy, smiling gently as she reached out to stroke the girl's long hair. Sitting down on the bed, Emma gathered her thoughts before she spoke, taking a deep breath and starting her tale.

"We weren't even aware that we were more than figments of his imagination at first. He thought we were just voices and for a time that's all that we were to him… But then he ran away… And like good friends, we were the ones that helped him through all of his trials. We helped him adapt and evolve… And when life became too much and he didn't want to worry about it anymore, we protected him and hid him from what he didn't want."


	7. Who Looks Outside? Dreams

**A/N: Fun fact: Cillian Murphy is my favorite actor of all time (closely followed by Tobin Bell) and he is the actor that played all of the various "personalities" listed in this chapter. This chapter will be shorter than previous chapters, seeing as it is simply an explanation. It would also be easier to think of it as Emma telling a story. Also, for any fans of these movies and characters, remember that I'm not going to be one hundred percent accurate on their actual stories because I need to make them fit into this story.**

First there had been Robert Fischer Junior; he was a lonely boy of about eleven years old with a dead mother and a father absent from his life. He learned how to take care of himself, read hundreds of books and slowly grew up to become a powerful young man. We were just imaginary friends to him, people that existed only in his mind. And as he got older, we believed that. It was a shock to the entire world, even to all of us, when he forfeited his entire empire to pursue his own studies. He was doing quite well, none of us really knew what happened to make him snap and leave L.A., but we didn't stop him.

He decided to go to San Francisco, where he simply curled up and hid in a hotel room. We couldn't let him do that, what kind of friends would we be if we did? So we decided to help him.

Kitten was actually the first. Sweet, rambunctious Kitten with so much fire in her decided to help Robert. So she gently led him aside and for a time that was enough, to live in San Francisco and let Kitten do what she pleased. She was such a bright girl… And then the money ran out. Kitten always wanted to be a writer, and she tried desperately to get her stories published in the magazines and papers that would give money, but no one would take her writing. Robert refused to come out and Kitten didn't want to ask for anyone else to help her, so she began to walk the streets.

That didn't work out so well for Kitten when her first customer didn't know the meaning of the word "no".

We couldn't just let her get hurt, really we couldn't. So we convinced Jackson to help her.

Jackson killed the man and we had to flee before the authorities could find the body. We had to, we needed to protect Robert and now Kitten. So we left, booked a plane ticket to Miami.

Jackson did well over there, he was a smooth man, a criminal, albeit, but he was not as social as Kitten. He couldn't handle people for as long as she could and we quickly discovered that Jackson didn't see the point in trying to gain a legal living. Jackson Rippner was organized, carefully calculating and cruel. He was so horribly cruel… He became a manager for a strange company, one of anarchy and murder. He had never failed a task before and so the threats of those people didn't faze him.

Until he was unable to complete his task.

It was his first failure and he didn't know how to handle it. He did what Kitten had done and what Robert had done before him.

John, my husband, was the next to step up. Poor skittish, anxious, quiet John couldn't handle being in Miami, so he moved us to Peacock. He was relatively happy there, hiding away from people with his job at the bank doing the same repetitive thing over and over. However, he couldn't care for himself. He was a child, really, with no skills in caring for his own needs. So I helped him. I made his meals, cleaned his house, did his laundry. It was a comfortable existence, the others tucked away, recovering from their own fears and injuries. They'd come out every so often, but their own paranoia kept them within us.

I admit that I enjoyed my time with John in Peacock. It would be too difficult to explain my own existence so I remained in the house while he ran errands and brought home basic needs. He even bought me a dress once, a beautiful blue and white dress, and I had never been so happy.

Until the train car.

People became suspicious. They didn't know about Emma Skillpa and they wanted to know. They wanted me in their community, but John didn't want me seen. I admit that I had suppressed him, trapped him within with the others. But I realize that I had done something horrible. I had tried to build my own life, to ruin the lives of the others.

So I left Peacock and crawled in on myself.

That was when Jonathan came out.

I admit, Jonathan was always the voice of reason amongst us. He was logic, he was intelligence, he was knowledge and curiosity. He was the best of us, he really was. But he wasn't functional on his own. So Scarecrow decided to help him. Oh, Jonathan knew Scarecrow, knew his thoughts and his desires, but he accepted the company anyway, even when all of us wanted nothing more than to restrain Scarecrow. But they worked well together, despite throwing our collective body into crime again. They were functional, working well together and keeping us hidden from the world.

And then the Bat Man came into the picture.

Our body had developed immunity to the fear toxin that Jonathan and Scarecrow manufactured. But the amount that the Bat Man had sprayed him with… Scarecrow went completely crazy. Jonathan was gone for so long and we were all so terrified of Scarecrow that we didn't say anything. But then we were in Arkham, we were being treated, and eventually Scarecrow let us pull him in, let us lock him away deep within Jonathan's mind.

We understood that the only reason Jonathan was released was because there wasn't enough room in the asylum, but we decided that it was alright. We didn't need to be individual any more, we could let ourselves become facets of Jonathan. We still had our names and it was still obvious when we were present because Jonathan wouldn't be quite right, but that was alright with us.

And then we met Nancy.

She made us smile, made us happy and if we ignored Scarecrow we could all honestly say that we wanted nothing more than to make her happy and keep her safe. She's our sister, part of our family, and we were all determined to protect her.

She is our friend… Our Nancy… And we wanted to do anything to help her…

We'd even call in the Bat Man for help.


End file.
